The Woman Who Thinks She's a Chest Of Drawers...

Somewhere deep inside our heads there’s a door. The door has a sign on it. The sign says ‘Stuff you don’t have to think about & stuff you should just bloody shut up and accept.”

Behind the door is a room. It’s jam-packed full of the things we take for granted. Things we have no control over. Things we’ve been made to believe. Some of us spend too much damned time in there.

The Woman Who Thinks She’s a Chest Of Drawers is in the coffee shop this morning. All her life she has wished that someone, anyone, would just see her for what she really is. For what she can be.

But nobody sees her at all. She’s off the radar. Overlooked. Taken for granted. Living her life in the shadows in the corner of the room. Out of the light.

She never even felt it happen. One day she was part of the family. The next day she was part of the furniture.

And that’s the way it stayed.

So, she has come to regard herself as a beautiful stripped pine chest.

Six drawers. Two half-width at the top. For potential and self-belief. Four full-width underneath. For talent, beauty, personality and likeability. One double size at the bottom. Damned appropriate. For all the crap that life throws at her.

That’s how it is. Every day. Until she comes in here.

Here, with the heady aroma of the dark roasted beans caressing her senses, she becomes visible. She becomes somebody.

Here she has worth. Presence. Value.

Here she gets nods. And smiles. And conversation. And peace of mind.

Today she’s in the queue in front of me. Placing her order.

Her overcoat is quiet. Sedate. Unremarkable.

Little Italy has a special smile for her. One that says I understand. One that says it’s okay you’re safe in here. One that says I know your name.

So, what’s it gonna be today, Maeve, she says. Your usual, or something entirely unusual, she says.

The Woman Who Thinks She’s a Chest Of Drawers pauses and closes her eyes for a few heartbeats.

She visualises the chest. Sees the colour. Feels the wood. Looks at the top where a cork mat sits. On the mat is a cup and saucer.

In the cup is a light brown frothy liquid. Hot. On the froth is a dark brown outline.

She opens her eyes, takes a breath and smiles. Large Cappuccino with a chocolate heart sprinkled on top, she says.

Little Italy nods. Good choice, she says. Go sit down, I’ll bring it over, she says.

The Woman Who Thinks She’s a Chest Of Drawers slips her some silver, turns and looks for a vacant square.

Not in the corner. Somewhere right in the middle of the room. Three-sixty accessibility. All-round visibility.

She spots one. Walks slowly to it. Takes off her coat and sits down.

Under the coat is a bright red blouse and black, figure-hugging skirt.

For the next hour or so, The Woman Who Thinks She’s a Chest Of Drawers will transform back to Maeve the beautiful. Maeve the intelligent. Maeve the happy.

As Little Italy leaves the bar carrying the cappuccino, she looks up at the box on the wall. The box knows a thing or two about transformations. It reaches down, brings up number 135 and slides it on the turntable.

The curtains open. Nina Simone is at the piano.

Maeve lifts her cappuccino and gently sips. Feels the liquid slide down her throat. Smiles.

Somewhere deep inside her head another door opens. She walks in.

Maeve the brave. Maeve the vibrant.

And she’s feeling good.

Be cool…

****************************************************

The above is an extract from my book Ad Lib.

Like its sisters Ad Lib, and Ad Infinitum (NOW AVAILABLE), and Ad Interruptus (as yet unfinished) it's about creativity, advertising, life, and lots of stuff in between.

You'll find Ad Infinitum, Ad Lib, and Ad Hoc on Amazon, along with my other books, Love & Coffee and Heaven Help Us. In print and ebook. Waiting for you.

And the wonderful thing about all three Ad books is… it doesn’t matter where you finish any chapter or episode.

Because it will always be pretty damned close to where you started it…

Ad Infinitum: https://amzn.to/3pof7Uq

Ad Lib: https://amzn.to/2kd4LKf.

Ad Hoc: https://amzn.to/2Nx8GL8

Love & Coffee: https://amzn.to/28IWaHq

Heaven Help Us: https://amzn.to/2nkQ1Jk

Grab a coffee, grab a chair, and grab a sneaky peek.

Then grab a copy...